Since I’ve been in a relationship, I deleted all the dating apps from my phone. I never had much luck with them anyway — but I never imagined they could still land me in an awkward spot years after I last swiped right.
One Saturday night, I was holding a friend’s phone. We were sitting on another friend’s couch, half-empty wine glasses in front of us, and innocently scrolling through profiles. We laughed, commented, teased each other. Just harmless fun. Then suddenly, my finger froze on the screen. The handsome, stubbled man looked way too familiar.
It took a few seconds for it to click. My colleague introduced him at a company party:
“This is my husband.”
I’m not super close with this colleague — we sometimes chat about our weekends by the coffee machine — but to my knowledge, her marital status hasn’t changed since that company party six months ago. They’re not separated or divorcing, at least as far as I know. And now this man was smiling at me on a dating app, with carefully chosen photos and a bio that definitely didn’t look like a forgotten profile.
Caught Up, Whether I Wanted To Be or Not
My first reaction wasn’t outrage — it was panic. That quiet, inner panic when a situation you never asked for suddenly lands on your shoulders, and now you’re the one who has to do something about it. Because from this point on, it’s not just their business. It’s mine too, whether I like it or not.
Questions started racing through my mind: What if they’re in an open relationship? What if this is all agreed upon, and my colleague is totally fine with it? What if I’m the one crossing boundaries by getting involved in something that’s none of my business? And then there was the heavier possibility: what if this is happening behind her back? If she has no clue, and now I hold information she absolutely should know.
If that’s the case, is staying silent betrayal? Or is speaking up?
What makes this even trickier is that it’s not my best friend — it’s a colleague. Someone I work with every day, share smiles and coffee with, sit in meetings alongside, and have to keep a professional relationship with. If I approach her and tell her what I saw, I could change our entire dynamic in an instant. And if it goes wrong, it won’t just crack their marriage — it could affect the whole workplace vibe.
And then there’s the question of dignity. If I speak up, how can I do it without humiliating her? Without making her feel like people are gossiping or whispering behind her back? Is there even a way to say something like this that doesn’t hit like a slap?
And of course, there’s the easy thought we often reach for: It’s not my business. It’s easy to say. Easy to stay out of it. Easy to hand the responsibility back to life, fate, or whoever “knows better.” But now I know something. And I have to live with that knowledge, no matter what I decide.
I Don’t Know What the Right Move Is
I don’t know if speaking up or staying silent causes less harm. But I’m increasingly sure these situations are never black and white. There are no ready-made scripts — only people with feelings, secrets, and consequences. And sometimes not deciding is a decision too — but that has a cost as well. I honestly have no idea what to do…
